


Five Minutes

by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Speed dating au, keith is grumpy as hell but who can blame him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-25 10:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: When Keith is unwillingly tricked into a speed dating session by Shiro, he finds himself meeting several unusual characters. The most unusual of all, however, is the loud one in the letterman jacket. He's obnoxious and has no regard for the other people around him and he keeps making his way closer and closer to Keith within the ring rotations. Can Keith pull himself together to get through this meeting? Or will he find himself interested by the end of their five minutes?





	Five Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> this work was inspired by the really cute [speed dating art](http://cthulhuchuu.tumblr.com/post/173204497488/klance-speed-dating-au-ill-edit-this-with-a) by [cthulhuchuu](http://cthulhuchuu.tumblr.com) for the reverse bang! they're super awesome! please go check them out :D

Keith doesn’t want to be here. 

Holy  _ shit  _ does he not want to be here.

It’s everything he doesn’t like. Forced interaction. Forced interaction with  _ strangers.  _ Forced interaction with strangers that involves the dreaded getting-to-know-you process over and over and over again when he doesn’t even  _ care  _ to know them in the first place. 

He doesn’t  _ care  _ about this short girl’s job, or the kind of food this guy sporting the questionable t-shirt/blazer combo likes, or where either of them grew up or went to school or blah blah  _ blah he doesn’t care about any of this shit. _

And yet here he is, five people deep in this absolute hellscape because Shiro was slick enough to get him all the way in here without so much as a slip in his lie.

“This isn’t the new thrift store,” Keith had said.

Shiro had answered, “You’re right - it isn’t.” And then he sat him down and disappeared somewhere and that was when it finally dawned on Keith that he had been good and truly swindled.

And now here he is...a fixed point in this hellish circle of tables and chairs...and Keith wants nothing more than to be put out of his misery.

“So um...what about music?” This girl on the other side of the table is trying really hard. He can at least recognize that. 

Doesn’t mean he has to fall all over himself though. “What about it…”

It’s a pretty standard question, and definitely not the first time he’s been asked it today, but she carries on regardless. “I mean like-...what kind do you listen to?”

Keith suppresses a sigh. Glances at the countdown clock hanging on the wall. One more minute and twenty seconds… Nineteen… Eighteen… 

“Everything, I guess,” he says, eyes not leaving the ticking numbers. Then, as an afterthought, “How ‘bout you.”

“Oh, kinda everything too. I just started listening to this artist who…-”

Her story fades into a muted mumble in the back of Keith’s mind like nothing.

One minute left.

One minute left and then it’s the next person, and then the next, and then - Keith stretches around, not even bothering to hide the fact that he’s counting the rest of the circle…

God...at least four more… 

What did he do to get himself involved in this?

“-ahaha! Totally!”

Keith snaps back to attention, the guy three rotations down earning more than a few eyes on him as his outburst powers over everyone else’s conversation. 

It’s not the first time it’s happened either, and judging by the consistency of his excitement, it probably won’t be the last.

“-n the media like that though…”

Shit. This guy can’t even let Keith zone out properly without forcing him back into the conversation going on right in front of his nose. Ugh, now he has to focus.  _ What  _ was this girl talking about? ‘Media’... ...music?

“Uh...totally.” It’s an echo of that obnoxious guy’s outburst. He realizes it as soon as it leaves his lips, but-

_ “Allllright everyone - time for another rotation!”  _ comes the overly cheerful and absolutely  _ booming  _ voice from the PA system hanging ominously above them. Oh fuck - thank god…  _ “Outer ring, say goodbye and move to the next seat!”  _

Keith’s still trying to figure out where the ringleader actually  _ is.  _ She disappeared with her clipboard at the beginning of this whole thing and that was-...fuck it was so long ago. He  _ has  _ to have been here for at least thirteen hours already, right?

“Well hello there!”

The next matchup is making himself comfortable across the table before there’s time to ponder it more, his smile bubbly and hair gelled up and oooh boy, Keith is already annoyed.

“So I know what you’re thinking - _‘_ _ _o_ h my god _this one’s too cute - I just gotta have him’,” he snickers, shoulders coming in a little, “It’s what you’re thinking, right? I know - I can tell - boys like you always try to snatch me up. But I mean I _get_ it, you know? Who wouldn’t want to?”

And then silence.

Nothing. 

Keith blinks.

Is he-...is he waiting for a response?

What even was the question?

“Oh come on now honey, don’t be shy. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before, if you know what I mean.” He leans in for the last part, voice dripping with something hard to place but definitely tiring. 

Keith’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit. Five minutes of this. He  _ will  _ die.

Two rotations away, the obnoxious guy is laughing at something his matchup said, voice climbing and managing to overpower even this new dude's volume.

It’s coming from all sides.

This is it.

This is Keith’s nightmare.

He is  _ going to fucking die here. _

“Oh-! Here I am making plans and we didn’t even introduce ourse-”

“Keith.” He cuts him off. Doesn’t care.

Speed it up - speed it up - let’s speed this shit up.

“Tyler. This has to be your first speed dating experience, isn’t it. I can totally tell. You know there’s…-” aaaaand attempt number two at tuning out this dude’s voice...

Keith sighs, his gaze lingering over to Obnoxious Guy two seats down, and then further over until he’s locking eyes with Shiro where he watches from the other side of a nearby pass-through window.

Ugh. Shiro. 

That bastard.

Keith doesn’t even know why he brought him here. Well-...like, he knows  _ why  _ he’s here. It’s been about forty five years since Keith’s dated anyone. But still. This? This whole... _ thing?  _ This is so far off the spectrum from-

_ “Alright! Time to switch!”  _ The ringleader’s voice popping up through the loudspeaker is a surprise but definitely welcome. Because damn, did he seriously zone out that long?  _ “Outer circle, please move to the next seat and begin!” _

Tyler’s moving with enough purpose that Keith doesn’t even have to wonder if his voluntary zone-out sent the right message. It frees up the space in the chair in front of him - gives him some honest to god breathing room for half a goddamn second before the next wave of insufferable attention comes crashing down on him. 

Speaking of insufferable…

“Hey hey!” It’s Obnoxious Guy. He’s one seat away but he might as well be right in Keith’s fucking lap with how loud he is.

It’s not difficult to see the startle in the person next to him.

Even easier to see the complete  _ exhaustion  _ in the girl sliding into the seat in front of Keith. 

“Hey…” She’s tired - done - “You mind if I just like...take this one…?” - turning her body in the chair a little bit in the opposite direction because- “Being in front of this guy is just-... Ugh…”

Keith blinks. Assesses the situation. Can’t help the little eyebrow raise in response because damn, getting stuck between Tyler and Obnoxious Guy this whole time… Holy shit, is she okay?

“Definitely,” he confirms without another thought.

And it must be exactly what she wants to hear, because her eyes roll into the back of her head with an “oh thank god…” and then she’s burying her face in her arms on the table.

And wow. If that isn’t the motherfucking mood of the day.

On the other side of the room, Shiro’s sporting this concerned little frown at the sight, clearly unable to relate to the stressors of constant social interaction. Keith would like to see  _ him  _ here, in their shoes, suffering through introduction after introduction and having to listen to Obnoxious Guy laugh about whatever the fuck and-

Keith freezes - blinks - doesn’t realize his stare had drifted from Shiro to the boy in question until it’s being met. And-

He tears his gaze away, focusing back on Shiro and the other people he’s talking to behind the pass-through and literally anything other than the guy next to him because that was-... Uh…

The chair squeaks under him as he readjusts himself. 

Pulls on the hem of his shirt. 

Clears his throat and swallows and maybe...lets his eyes...flick back over for a sec.

Obnoxious Guy is still there. Of-...of course he would be, what a dumb fucking thing to say. It’s not like he’s got anywhere else to go. Not with the way they’re all trapped in here until the event is over. 

Keith leans back in his seat. Obnoxious Guy probably has a stupid name. A stupid name to go with that absolutely stupid jacket. His stupid grin. The stupid way he listens to whatever his matchup is saying across from him but then catches something and-...

Those eyes are on him again. On Keith. Watching him for a moment, but then taking him in with a short but interested up-down.

Keith frowns. Crosses his arms. Makes it very clear that he’s not interested. Even without having met the guy. Even with the annoying little ball of warmth that blossoms in his chest when those eyes don’t leave him once they make it back up.

Fuck. What is this guy’s  _ problem.  _ Is he trying to psych Keith out or something? Trying to get under his skin before he even introduces himself? Because he’s got that shit on lockdown already - has had it ever since he let his first laugh shake the rafters and threaten to bring the entire roof down on top of them all.

God, this guy is a prick. 

No wonder this poor girl has to take a round to gather herself. He can’t even imagine being subjected to an hour of-

_ “Excellent! Alright outer circle - you know what to do!” _

Son of a bitch. 

Son of a fucking bitch.

It’s far too soon and far  _ far  _ too soon for the girl in front of him as she tries to muster up enough energy to continue. And he does feel bad for her - he does - but not as bad as he feels for himself when she mumbles a cryptic “good luck” and then moves onto the next round.

Good luck. 

Yeah, that’s not ominous at all.

Shiro’s just about to be on the receiving end of one very heated  _ fuck you fuck you fuck you  _ glare when Keith’s path of vision is interrupted -  _ cut off  _ \- obliterated by a field of blue and white and the screech of chair legs against the floor because heaven forbid this dude goes one goddamn second without bringing attention to himself. 

And alright.

Fine.

Here we go.

Keith huffs, meeting the climax of his speed-dating adventure head-on as it presents itself right in front of him, elbows resting on the table, chin in his hand, smirk heavy and alluding as he sits there...silently...for once in his life. 

Keith’s arms are still crossed. Punctuating his displeasure. His ire. “What.” 

The guy’s grin doesn’t falter in the slightest, just like his attention as he says it. “Just waitin’ to see what your next move is after staring me down like that.”

It’s bizarrely calm but still dripping with slick enjoyment, and Keith doesn’t like that shit at all. “I wasn’t staring at you.” 

“You were for  _ sure  _ staring at me, man.”

“Well you were staring back, weren’t you?” Asshole. This prick. 

“Yeah, but you started it.” He lets that little truth be mulled over between them for a moment. Lets the connotations and the conclusions be drawn before letting up on the eye contact enough to glance elsewhere. “Why’re you even here if you look like you’re about to kill someone?”

Keith takes it - seizes the opportunity to not have to square up for five seconds. 

He supposes it’s an honest question. He’s pretty sure not one person is better for talking to him during this whole thing. Except maybe that girl before this. She definitely came to the right guy for five uninterrupted minutes of silence. 

Anyway… “Wasn’t my idea.”

“No?”

“No. My friend fucked me over.”

“Hm.” That’s got him easing back, an arm slung over the back of the chair and head tilting a little as he goes right back to letting his eyes roam over Keith’s face.

And god, not this again. 

Keith huffs, chest doing that annoying burny thing again.  _ “What?”  _

“What’s your name?

“Why?”

_ “‘Why’?”  _ he chuckles at that. Only it’s not a foundation-shattering one like all the rest. It’s much more reserved. Much more sincere. Almost...a little- “Because that’s kinda how talking to new people goes?”

Keith resists the urge to roll his eyes. He’s gotta keep himself at least bare-minimum classy. “Really? You sure I can’t just keep referring to you as Obnoxious Guy in my head?” Alright, he’s talking  _ bare-minimum classy  _ here.

But his insult goes over with only a surprised eyebrow raise, “Ahhh, so you’re thinking about me enough to give me a name before even meeting me?” It’s bait. An honest to god tease.

And Keith isn’t sure why it’s making the heat in his chest rise up to his cheeks but he doesn’t care for  _ that  _ shit at all either. 

God, how much time does he have left?

“Lance,” comes the interruption once again. “But you can keep calling me Obnoxious Dude.” He’s smiling. “Or you could go crazy and combine them into Lance the Obnoxious Dude.”

Keith throws him a look, “It was Obnoxious  _ Guy,”  _ but the sarcasm in his tone won’t keep up for some reason.

It must reveal the perfect opportunity to slip past, because Lance the Obnoxious Guy is leaning forward again. “And you?”

“What about me.”

“Your name, man. Shit, if it’s this hard to get your name out of you, how'm I ever gonna get your number?”

Keith’s face hurts. It’s just way too fucking warm. This guy. This-... What the hell. “You’re extremely annoying. You know that, right?”

“Mhm.” He doesn’t seem all that shocked. Or worried. “Gotta be when you have five other siblings trying to get attention.”

Five-

Keith’s carefully constructed demeanor breaks down for a moment - fucking has to - because holy shit, what? “You have  _ five  _ siblings?”

“Yep. Second youngest - so you can imagine the shit you gotta pull to get some recognition growing up, ya know?”

Holy fuck… “That’s-...” he has to take a second. Has to  _ try  _ to imagine it. “That sounds like a nightmare.”

Obnoxious Lance shrugs, “Nah, I mean I love ‘em and everything. It’s like a normal amount of brothers and sisters but just amped up by a few. You know how it is.”

“Definitely don’t.” How in the world does someone even function in that big of a family? “No siblings.”

“Whoa--what?”

“Don’t really have any family to speak of.” 

It dances right off his tongue with ease. Without hesitation. Without any sort of-... 

Keith blinks. 

...why’d...he just say that?

“Wait, you’re kidding right?” Across the table, Lance’s smile is falling. Forced. Trying to feel it out. “That’s a joke?”

“What.”

“About not having family?”

Keith frowns. “No?”

Why would he joke about that? Shit, why’d he even tell him in the first place? 

The few moments of silence that blanket over them is rare, unmarred by the weight of ridicule. Completely lacking in playfulness. Devoid of any sort of bait to get snagged on.

It’s weird. 

Confusingly intimate.

Rubs up against Keith’s skin as Lance’s eyes search his face for...something…

Then… 

“We all go up to this lake house a few times every summer and just chill. Relatives - extended family - friends, and shit…”

Keith’s trying to follow. Slowly. “...okay?”

“Yeah, you should come.”

He should-...

What…?

“U-...uh…”

It’s not the direction he was expecting  _ any  _ of this to go. Isn’t anything like the bullshit he was ready for through and through. And he-... He doesn’t really...know…what to do with this…

“You like to swim?”

“...yeah?”

“Cookouts?”

“I guess?”

“How ‘bout the general carefree nature of relaxing and getting shitfaced at a summer lake house?”

That last one has the grin returning to Obnoxious Lance’s face, the lilt in his words playful. 

And Keith-... What the  _ hell - why does his chest hurt so bad -  _

“You’re fucking crazy,” he huffs. Because he doesn’t know what else to do. Doesn’t know where to put the extra air in his lungs. Is pretty sure his face has almost completely melted off by now. “I’m not going to a lake house with someone I just met.”

Stupid. 

But...nice?

It pulls a little chuckle from the boy across from him, easing back into that relaxed posture in his chair once again as the overhead lights catch the glint in his eyes. “What if you actually introduced yourself back first? That be enough?” There’s the tease. “I mean, you actually tellin’ me your name… That’s pretty much, like, getting to second base with you right?”

The fire spreads down to his stomach so quickly that Keith doesn’t even get a chance to defend himself against it - to defend himself against  _ Lance.  _ “Wow, so funny…” he mumbles, humorless. Or he tries to, at least. But it’s harder than it should be with the way Lance’s attention on him has gone from teasing to heartfelt to  _ whatever that was  _ and then right back to teasing. 

He’s gonna get whiplash at this rate. Especially with the way Lance just keeps on going.

“So mean…” he’s shaking his head, smile fond, “So mean and  _ so,  _ so angry. It’s a good thing you’re as cute as you are.”

And that’s-...

Lance is so-...

_ Uuuugh what the hell.  _

The weird pops of energy bubbling up through Keith’s rib cage are enough to have him sitting forward, whatever his brain’s got in store as retaliation ready on his tongue to-

_ “Alright! Final rotation! Outer circle, please move to your last seat!” _

He freezes. 

Watches Lance take a second.

Watches him nod to himself and then casually get to his feet.

Watches him smirk and push the chair in and then-... And then wink at Keith. 

And then he’s moved on. He’s at the other table. And someone else is sitting where he just sat and-...

Oh.

Right.

This is a-...rotation thing.

Right.

“How’s it goin’?” 

Keith brings his gaze from Lance to Not Lance - the Not Lance who’s right here and starting without a hitch and yeah, Keith should really probably say something right now.

“Uh…” C’mon, “...hi.”

Nailed it.

He gets a few sentences out of them - probably the basics - but Keith doesn’t catch a single word of it. And he’s not even  _ trying  _ to zone out this time. 

It’s just...happening. Without him really meaning to. And as happy as he should be that he’s finally made it to the last round - that the light at the end of the tunnel is so close and within his reach - he can’t help but note the heat still lingering in his chest. The odd sort of displeasure lingering fresher. The surprising consideration that-...that maybe they could go back one rotation? Let them finish up a few things? Clearly there were some items of discussion that still needed to be said, so… Couldn’t they just maybe…

Keith’s heart stutters, blue eyes catching his.

He’s doing it again. 

He’s staring.

Lance holds it. Nods and says something to his matchup but  _ holds it.  _ Lets the corner of his mouth quirk up in the subtlest of grins and  _ holds that shit until Keith can’t do it anymore  _ \- until he has to look away - has to break it up - has to come back to his own conversation at hand with the dawning realization that he has no idea what the person in front of him is talking about. 

Because it’s not important.

He doesn’t give a shit. 

Didn’t give a shit about anything anyone has said this whole godforsaken day except-

_ “This concludes today’s event!”  _ It’s the ringleader. She’s back on the mic. Back in the middle of the circle, clipboard in hand. And Keith can’t help but glance back at where Lance is still looking at him,  _ “Thank you all so much for coming out today,”  _ still holding his gaze from a table away,  _ “we hope you had a wonderful time and made the connections you came here seeking to create! If you would please make sure you have all your belongings…-” _

The chair legs screech under Keith as he stands, his body and his brain doing far too many things at once for him to sit here and listen to the rest of the parting words. 

He needs to move. Needs to get back to Shiro and then get out of here before he does something stupid.

“So?” Speak of the devil.

“I hate you,” Keith grumbles right off the bat, shrugging on his jacket as his friend nods goodbye to the people he was apparently bonding with on the safe side of the pass-through window. “It was a nightmare from start to finish and I hate you.”

“Whole time, huh?” Shiro’s not convinced. It’s obvious both in his tone and the look on his stupid face. “No 'connections created'?”

“No.”

“Not even  _ one  _ person?”

“Shiro-”

“Not one,  _ very loud  _ person?”

Keith blinks. Several times. “...what.”

“You’re embarrassingly obvious sometimes. I hate to say it, but you are.” Shiro’s coming around to the other side now, giving Keith just enough time to slip into the first stage of existential crisis. 

“What - you can’t mean Lance.”

“I mean Lance.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“I’ve never seen you that red.”

“I-...” Keith’s protest neither starts off strong nor finishes...like, at all. “He-...” What the hell. “He’s annoying.”

“Okay.”

“And way too loud.”

“He is.”

“Okay, so-...” 

Shiro’s just looking at him. With that  _ Knowing Shiro Smile _  that Keith hates so much, because nine times out of ten he’s right, whether Keith realizes it right away or not. And just-...

_ Ahhhhhh- _

“Go give him your number.”

Keith postures, “The  _ fuck I am-” _

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity?” His common sense? His-...his...uh… 

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Shiro yields, ripping off a slip of paper from a nearby speed dating survey and scribbling Keith’s number down before-

“No!” It’s the first time he’s raised his voice, and yes he was just talking about how annoyingly loud Lance is but- “No no no-”

“Then go give it to him.”

“Why would I-” panic time, “I don’t like him!”

He’s got his hands fisted against Shiro’s, trying to get the slip of paper to no avail. Because this is Shiro we’re talking about. “...Keith-”

“Okay look.” Here we go. Here we fucking go. “Even if I did like him, look at all the people by him right now.” He knows he’s huffing it, but it’s a really really great point. There’s like five people crowding around Lance trying to talk to him. Like hell Keith’s gonna be the sixth. Even with that spike of something that shoots past his heart at the sight of it. 

“It’ll take two seconds.”

“Shiro…”

“Keith.” It’s when everything kind of slows down for it, Shiro making sure to get that eye contact before continuing - before laying it all out on the table in a way that only he seems to understand Keith needs. “You don’t wanna hear it. I know. But I also know you. And it might be a hit to your pride right this second, but you’re gonna feel even shittier if you don’t do it at all.”

It’s…

Ugh...

Okay. Keith supposes he might be onto something. Perhaps.

“I can’t fucking stand that you’re always right,” he grumbles, insides churning. 

But then he does it. He snatches the paper from Shiro’s fingers and turns on his heels and  _ marches  _ \- just fucking marches right up to the group of people and behind Lance before his nerves can good and truly fuck him over and-

“Hey.”

He snaps it. Angry. Crisp.

But it gets Lance’s attention startlingly well, his head turning and then entire body immediately twisting to face Keith head-on. And Keith’s just going to ignore how good it feels to watch the people behind him react to getting his back turned to them. 

But anyway. That’s not the point. The point is-...oh fuck, what was the point-

Lance’s grin is surprised but pleased. Sets them both back on track. “Hey-”

“Here.” Keith doesn’t even give him a chance. He just fucking thrusts the paper against his chest and is thankful when Lance reacts quickly enough to catch it and then he turns on his heels, face on fire once again as he stalks back toward where Shiro is watching.

And he-

He did it. 

Fuck - okay good - okay, he did it. 

He gave him his number.

Okay-

“Hey!” 

Keith stops in his tracks, nerves spiking once again but  _ fuck it  _ because he’s gotten this far.

He turns. Holds that gaze. Feels the warmth flooding everywhere when Lance smiles, genuine and hopeful, the paper unfurled in his hand, “So...your name’s Keith…”

And oh boy…

If he can’t stay calm when he hears Lance say his name for the first time, how is he ever gonna survive at his lake house?

 

\- The End -


End file.
